o me. You see,
I have given this matter all the 'tention in my power. 'If the lads be
dead,' said I to you, 'it is no use burning one's fingers by holding
a candle to bones in a coffin. But Mr. Beaufort need not know they are
dead, and we'll see what we can get out of him; and if I succeeds, as
I think I shall, you and I may hold up our heads for the rest of our
life.' Accordingly, as I told you, I went to Mr. Beaufort, and--'Gad,
I thought we had it all our own way. But since I saw you last, there's
been the devil and all. When I called again, Will, I was shown in to an
old lord, sharp as a gimblet. Hang me, William, if he did not frighten
me out of my seven senses!"

Here Captain Smith (the reader has, no doubt, already discovered that
the speaker was no less a personage) took three or four nervous strides
across the room, returned to the table, threw himself in a chair, placed
one foot on one hob, and one on the other, laid his finger on his nose,
and, with a significant wink, said in a whisper, "Will, he knew I
had been lagged! He not only refused to hear all I had to say, but
threatened to prosecute--persecute, hang, draw, and quarter us both, if
we ever dared to come out with the truth."

"But what's the good of the truth if the boys are dead?" said William,
timidly.

The captain, without heeding this question, continued, as he stirred the
sugar in his glass, "Well, out I sneaked, and as soon as I had got to
my own door I turned round and saw Sharp the runner on the other side of
the way--I felt deuced queer. However, I went in, sat down, and began
to think. I saw that it was up with us, so far as the old uns were
concerned; and it might be worth while to find out if the young uns
really were dead."

"Then you did not know that after all! I thought so. Oh, Jerry!"

"Why, look you, man, it was not our interest to take their side if we
could make our bargain out of the other. 'Cause why? You are only one
witness--you are a good fellow, but poor, and with very shaky nerves,
Will. You does not know what them big wigs are when a roan's caged in a
witness-box--they flank one up, and they flank one down, and they bully
and bother, till one's like a horse at Astley's dancing on hot iron.
If your testimony broke down, why it would be all up with the case,
and what then would become of us? Besides," added the captain, with
dignified candour, "I have been lagged, it's no use denying it; I am
back before my time. Inquir